


bury your dead

by jsunny



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Gen, Light Angst, blue lions route spoilers maybe, maybe lol, there is character death sort of but its not really dwelled on so im not sure whether to tag it..
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-10-04 04:02:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20464694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jsunny/pseuds/jsunny
Summary: The numbing cold of northern Faerghus never bothered him as much as this does, the southern sunlight shining straight through him no matter where he goes, illuminating his sins and baring his scars without the warmth ever breaking skin.





	bury your dead

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this on my phone, and i also have not written for fun in literally years, and i also have not finished even a single playthrough of this game yet. so. just warning ya!

“And in the dead of night, they say sometimes, you can still hear the thump... thump... thump of his footsteps on the third floor...”

“Mercie!!” Annette finally breaks the tension, shoving her friend aside in trembling desperation. Around them at the table, a small group of friends sits, enraptured - Caspar is smiling amusedly, while Linhardt appears lost in thought. Ashe has buried his head in his arms, covering his ears. “That’s going a bit too far, d-don’t you think!”

“Well, you’ve never been up there, have you Annie?” Mercedes smiles gently, only the twinkle in her eyes and the spark of mischief in her voice betraying her mirth. “Who’s to really say?”

Dimitri looks on in amusement as the sounds of Mercedes’ tinkling laughter and Annette’s terrified moaning join the lively bustle of the dining hall, rising up to mingle with the afternoon sun. It is entirely too sweet to be coming from one who has just scared her friends witless, but he supposes that’s just how she is.

“That story is entirely uncorroborated by existing evidence,” Linhardt says after a pause, voice petulant. “We all know Archbishop Rhea lives up there. And even if... if ghosts were real, there’s no way they could be corporeal enough to interact with objects, or make sounds.” Dimitri smiles. Is Linhardt actually afraid of ghosts too?

“D-don’t say that!! What if he hears!” Ashe finally lifts his head enough to add his voice to the conversation. “The ghost of the cardinal could be listening right now... finding out when best to surprise us.. a-and...” He stands abruptly, shaking the table. “I j-just remembered I have stable duty, I gotta go!!”

Caspar laughs as Ashe runs off, forgetting his plate and some kind of amulet on the table in his haste. “Aw, Ashe is so fun to mess with. Everyone knows ghosts aren’t real!”

——

“In the end, will this be worth it?” Caspar’s voice from behind him, Caspar’s bedraggled body in front of him.

He grits his teeth against the blaring sun. The numbing cold of northern Faerghus never bothered him as much as this does, the southern sunlight shining straight through him no matter where he goes, illuminating his sins and baring his scars without the warmth ever breaking skin. Glenn’s cool touch guides his arm, his lance, the tip sliding between heavy armor plates, tearing easily into Caspar’s side, his scream of pain mixing in with the surrounding cacophony even as his voice continues to speak from behind Dimitri. An apparition? Or the real Caspar? He is never certain, anymore, where the line lies, the dead who have steadfastly followed him for ten long years, the voices of his friends joining in and becoming lost in the chorus of those hungry for vengeance. Bernadetta shouts from somewhere above him. Was she living, or had he killed her too...? He cannot remember.

“Do you feel no remorse for your friends? In seeking justice, you’ll kill even those you care about?” The voice is Caspar’s, but it doesn’t speak like him. Unless he had changed so much in five years...?

Staring at Fort Merceus, he grounds himself, willing his mind to tune out the voices, the sounds of fighting, everything. After Gronder, he had stepped forward with new resolve, the will to live for himself and no one else.

But the ghosts were real. And they haunted him still.

**Author's Note:**

> wats up im stupid. actually this is a comic idea i had that i wanted to explore a bit. if i ever do make that comic i guess ill link it here..? you can find me on twitter @nicorinpan i jsut draw though.


End file.
